


how long have you known

by AlkalineChatter



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Pining Gon Freecs, Reunion, gon cries a lot, gon is sad but then killua shows up, killua is so perfect i just can't, post-reunion, these boys are very gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:34:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29199198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlkalineChatter/pseuds/AlkalineChatter
Summary: How long have you known?Known what?That I’m in love with Killua.~~~A hurt/comfort story in which we untangle some of Gon's coping with the Chimera Ant Arc. Post-reunion, somewhat aged-up characters, happy ending, canon-compliant as far as I'm concerned.Rated T for the sad stuff, there is nothing explicit.
Relationships: Gon Freecs & Killua Zoldyck, Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck
Comments: 35
Kudos: 116





	how long have you known

**Author's Note:**

> Henlo~ 
> 
> I was thinking about this fanfic during a very stressful time in my life, hence the massive angst at the beginning. 
> 
> * If you're not into Gon feeling sad/guilty, you can skip the first part and jump to the section that starts with "There is something I should tell you." It's where the story jumps to present and where it becomes less about hurt and more about comfort. 
> 
> * This story follows the fan interpretation that considers Gon's fight with Pitou a deliberate suicide attempt. There's nothing explicit or too bad imo, but I don't wanna be the judge of it - feel free to stay away or come back later, if you're not up to a fic touching upon this topic. 
> 
> * I tried to capture the fact that Killua has become a healthier person during his travels with Alluka. I personally really adore my version of Killua in this story, like ahw, he's so good and caring, clearly he got the hang of it with Alluka--I hope you'll enjoy this characterization too!
> 
> That's all, I hope you'll enjoy!!

The first time, when Gon arrived home after his miraculous, Zoldyck-induced healing, Killua’s absence was a softly burning ache. Like ember, it kept gnawing at Gon. Yet there was so much to unpack at the time that Killua’s absence was, in a sense, helpful. Gon was acutely aware that he needed to figure things out. Whatever those _things_ might be. 

Losing his Nen was akin to losing a limb or two. When Ging—Gon had to swallow a crestfallen lump in his throat whenever he thought of his father. Gon risked so much for Ging. He had thought… He had imagined… He had hoped for so much more than yet another abandonment. This time, Gon couldn’t run after him, not after having lost his tremendous power and potential. He was just an ordinary kid now, a child who had to go to school, not an exceptional adventurer whose talent and determination could turn foes into friends.

It was over. His dream was fulfilled with a bitter end, his unique skills sacrificed for… what, revenge? Revenge for the only father figure he did have? His friends were not lost; Gon knew the friendships he had forged would last a lifetime, but they were gone, dispersed across the map, and Gon Freecss was in school.

_Why does disappointment taste like copper?_

Defeated, Gon gave in. He went to school; he did his best to find subjects he was good at. Biology, unsurprisingly. He trained. He meditated. He obsessively willed to remember what happened in East Gorteau; he had only received a very limited retelling of the story from Leorio, and Gon decided those memories were essential. He wanted to relive them so he could break the weird, unexpected taboo Killua had imposed on this topic. Gon wanted to remember and finally tell him how sorry he was.

~~~

Killua and Alluka visited him years later.

One would think years of absence diminishes the strength of a friendship, especially when this absence occurs during the formative years of puberty. Clearly, Gon’s heart hadn’t got the memo about these psychological discourses. It leapt with unchanged, unadulterated, unhindered joy. The best part was how everything clicked – as if their separation had happened mere days ago. Gon showed them Whale Island, he carried Alluka on his shoulders – apparently a lot more willingly than Killua, much to Alluka’s delight – and they teased each other with Killua, they competed, they swam. But there were no late-night conversations because Killua never ever let Alluka out of his sight, so they didn’t sleep together anymore, nor did they discuss where their friendship was going. They were friends. Great friends. But their intimacy was gone.

Gon pushed the nagging anxiety out of his mind. He didn’t want to ruin the limited time the Zoldycks would spend here. He just couldn’t. Killua was so different, so carefree. Gon wasn’t going to spoil this moment, nor was he going to force Killua to mind Gon’s worries. He would take whatever Killua was willing to offer. He would take this chance to befriend Alluka and Nanika. He would give them everything Whale Island had to offer. And when Killua had to go, he wouldn’t make a scene, nor would he make it more difficult for him.

Killua was free. Free of Gon, if he wanted.

True to his determined self, Gon only lost his composure when the distance between the island and the boat grew with every passing second. Seagulls screeched as the ferry set sail, and in Gon’s imagination they were lamenting Killua’s departure, too. Killua, who had returned to him; Killua, who had reignited his heart the moment his foot graced the soil of Whale Island; Killua, who, after an unimaginably long time spent on Whale Island, left again. Alluka was to begin an education of her own, including a special training with Bisky; and Killua was to embark on a Hunter adventure of his own. The boat took the Zoldyck siblings away from the island, and the ache gnawing at Gon’s innermost organs was no longer silent, no longer timid.

It was a roaring, destructive, terrifying pain, and for the first time, Gon wasn’t sure he would be able to defeat it.

~~~

In every half-truth, there is always truth. And the truth is, Gon wasn’t very okay at all.

The nightmares started soon after Killua and Alluka left. Dreams of dark, pressing cobwebs stuffing his mouth, drying his lungs, paralyzing his will. Dreams of menacing eyes. Thin, ruthless pupils. Her body says cat, her eyes say snake. Dreams of his body growing, twisting, and breaking beyond recognition; the physical pain dulled by grief, rage, and a numb, dreadful feeling Gon did not know before. 

And Killua was there.

Never on their adventures did Killua seem like a child to Gon. Killua had always seemed strong, impressive, awe-inspiring to him. In the nightmares, as he saw Killua’s face, Gon saw a boy whose eyes seemed too big in his pinched, horrified face.

The nightmare always ended with Gon waking up to Killua’s screams.

Gon couldn’t bring himself to call Killua after that.

In the summer break, Gon went to NGL and reunited with Kite and the crew. It sounded like a great idea, helping to build the reservoir and participate in the peacekeeping mission, meeting those Ant friends he had fought side by side with, getting to know this new Kite who was both old and new, strange and familiar. It all sounded great. A good way to grow, truly.

But his mind had not caught up with him.

When Ikalgo asked him about Killua’s whereabouts, his composure shook. When he walked the streets of the town where he and Killua had stayed back then, the absence of Killua was like a phantom limb, hot and itching. When he roamed the wilderness, he remembered Pitou, Kite, and Killua’s desperate cries all at once. He remembered how Killua had gone through hell _twice_ and back just for him. He remembered his own grief, his own willingness to end it all. He remembered the moment when his adult eyes had locked with Killua’s, whose child-face had been distorted with horror.

\--and they never discussed any of this, leaving loose ends and fear.

Gon wondered if his friendship with Killua was like a knitted scarf left unfinished. Will the stitches slowly undo themselves and will the scarf turn into a colorful pile of yarn, a soft memory of what it was and could’ve been? If only they put that last stitch to its place.

~~~

“There is something I should tell you.”

Mito seems embarrassed. An unusual sight, and frankly, Gon doesn’t like it. He lowers himself to the kitchen chair and obediently picks up the cup of tea Mito prepared for the two of them. She stares at her own hands.

“I- I called Killua,” she admits, finally. “I’m worried about you, and he… he is something else to you. It seemed like a good idea, but in retrospect, I think I should’ve asked for your consent. So, I’m sorry.”

Gon stares at the wooden surface of the kitchen table. The world buckles around him, and the table blurs out of focus. Aunt Mito’s worry makes sense, of course; Gon had to abort his time on NGL and come home because he was triggered by the familiar places, haunted by the nightmares, and unable to focus on the mission. Coping at home, on Whale Island, hasn’t been going any better for him either.

“Killua is coming… here?” Gon asks hesitantly, tackling the single most important information in what Mito just told him.

“Yes. He texted he was arriving tomorrow.”

A wave of unexpected relief washes over Gon. His lungs can process air just a little bit better, and his stomach is no longer an anxious knot twisted around his spine. The promise of Killua’s presence is like a candle: a tiny source of warmth, light, and hope. God, but he missed him so much, and ghosting Killua due to his own confused misery felt horrible. But as he remembers doing that, Gon is suddenly reminded of the entirety of the problem. That he has no idea how to talk to Killua after remembering the horrors that he, Gon, has done to his best friend. That he is terrified of what Killua thinks of him. That Killua realizes that he is in fact better off without Gon who hurt him so. Gon is reminded of his fear that Killua one day does not come back to Whale Island, and Gon will have no right to follow him. Gon breathes in, and the air of the room tastes like ash.

_I don’t want to live without him._

The realization is too clear, too otherworldly for the everyday domestic setting of the kitchen. Gon’s brain wrestles with the implications of this thought. How could he live with Killua, when— why would Killua want Gon, when— who could even love Gon, when—

_I love him._

The second realization is just as clear as the first, with a hint of exasperation in it. As if loving Killua could undo all the bad things Gon has done to him. As if loving Killua could purify Gon when he is so less than perfect.

 _He is something else to you._ Those are not otherworldly enlightenments but Mito’s words echoing in Gon’s head. Mito, whose eyes widen when she notices a tear rolling down on Gon’s cheek. But before she could ask, Gon blurts out words in a very Gon-like way.

“How long have you known?”

Indeed, the words are Gon-like; they don’t make any sense.

“Known what?” Mito asks gently.

Gon lets out the air through his nose. Then he takes a big breath, one big enough to say big things with.

“Known that I’m in love with Killua.”

“Oh Gon,” she responds softly, reaching across the table and taking Gon’s hands into hers.

How long? Since that first summer, ages ago, when Killua’s presence turned Gon’s youthful grin imperceptibly wider than ever. How long? Since now, when he told her in a hoarse, miserable voice, with the hunched back of a young and unsure adult, one who is old enough to know personal responsibility but not yet trained to carry it. Gon isn’t a child anymore, but he is vulnerable, afraid, and broken in ways that fills Mito with a silent, serene melancholy. No one, but no one can protect their child from heartbreak and failure.

“Since now,” Mito settles with the second truth. “But of course… Of course I suspected it.”

Her hand is steady on his, but she doesn’t stop Gon’s nervous fiddling with the cuticles of his fingers. And Gon cries without sobs, quietly, the way parents do so as not to wake their children. Mito moves her chair next to him and holds him and strokes his hair.

“Is this… Is this even okay?” Gon wonders out loud, his voice hardy audible when it feels like all the sinuses of his face were filled with thick, unshed tears. But Mito catches the uncertainty, and she tells him the extent of just how okay _this_ is. She holds him, rubs his back, and calls him by old, rusty, silly baby names from Gon’s childhood. And leaning on Mito’s kindness feels natural for Gon. Instead of overthinking it, wondering if he is worthy at all, Gon leans against Mito’s shoulder and bawls without a trace of self-consciousness.

Being so close to each other, they both feel it when it happens; the sensation of a pleasantly warm, viscous fluid, flowing and growing, making the room feel just a degree warmer, the candlelight just a bit lighter. Mito is confused but Gon’s teary face lights up, and an enormous, triumphant grin erupts on his face with the power of a thousand lightbulbs. He stares at his hands and he laughs, bordering on hysterical. 

Soon, the warm sensation surrounding Gon disappears; slowly, as if it were hesitant, as if it didn’t want to withdraw. 

“What even was that?” Mito whispers.

“My aura,” Gon preens a little. “My aura nodes opened a little. They closed again, but this means I could still learn to open them!”

“It felt … so warm.”

“I know! I love my aura!” Gon’s cheeks are bright pink now, his pain momentarily forgotten. His brain overcomes with hypotheses on what this means; whether his meditation training has just borne fruit, and if he could start training his _Nen_ again.

With her arm still on his back, Mito wonders if aura nodes are connected to blockages of the heart.

~~~

Not many passengers arrive to Whale Island with the last boat. The inhabitants of the island don’t stay up so late, preferring to follow the circadian rhythm dictated by the sun. The night sky is clear. There are no clouds to keep the warmth of the day close to the ground, and Gon is grateful for the bites of the cold air against his cheeks – it’s a welcome distraction.

The moment he notices Killua, however, no breeze can distract him any further.

Gon leaps and runs and is about to tackle Killua with his trademark bone-crushing hug—but stops last minute.

_How long have you known?_

_Known what?_

_That I’m in love with Killua._

His conversation with Mito bounces around in his brain until the words are muffled by the memory of Killua’s desperate scream of his name, reaching out for Gon’s adult body. And the present Gon’s throat closes as he suddenly doesn’t know what to say to Killua. Killua, who never brought this up; Killua with whom Gon is confusedly, shyly, and irrevocably in love.

This is the first time they are completely alone ever since their adventure ended in East Gorteau.

“Aunt Mito was right,” Killua finally ventures. His voice is deeper than the scream was in Gon’s memory. This Killua is older, calmer, more confident. Gon realizes he hardly knows this new Killua, the one who has changed and grown during his travels with Alluka. “You must be unwell if you don’t glomp me like always, Gon.”

“Do you… Do you want me to?”

The words come forth on their own. Whoever designed Gon forgot to add filters to the boy, and he simply can’t outgrow this. His question is stupid, he knows, but it simultaneously feels significant.

Killua doesn’t scoff, Killua doesn’t roll his eyes. He simply smiles at him and Gon forgets how to breathe. He pleats his green jacket between his fingers instead.

“Of course, you silly. I’m glad to see you again.”

The way Killua starts a hug is different from the way Gon does. Gon’s hugs come in motion, throwing himself into the recipient’s arms, tackling and crushing. Killua’s embrace is like a whisper; tender, quiet, heartfelt. His proximity banishes the uncertainty that Gon has been struggling with. He feels calm, safe, and cared for.

“You always take my breath away, Killua.”

Somehow Gon is not worried about speaking so frankly, as if his brain couldn’t keep up with the implications of his words. It really couldn’t; Gon’s brain is obsessively cataloging the feeling of Killua around him. His broader shoulders. His stronger jaw. And the unchanging paleness of his starlike skin, still looking as porcelain white as if it were a painting.

“Aunt Mito had me worried,” Killua begins after they have pulled apart, started walking home, and covered the topic of Alluka’s wellbeing. “And you haven’t been returning my calls and messages either. What’s up with you?” His words might’ve sounded rude, demanding, but Killua speaks sympathetically.

Gon stops. It’s the middle of the small road on the cliff; his cheeks turn flushed from the chilly breeze. Killua turns around and they are standing in front of each other, eyes locked.

“You never told me.”

Killua winces at the unconcealed pain in Gon’s voice.

“Told you what?”

“What I did to you. I remember now. I remember it all.”

Killua doesn’t need further hints. Despite the ambiguity of Gon’s wording, it is clear just what unacknowledged event he is referring to. When he doesn’t respond immediately, Gon continues. 

“I remember how I felt. I even remember how my body felt when it was … big. And I remember your face, Killua. I remember your wide eyes, your face, your fear.” Gon tumbles even closer and he abruptly strikes Killua’s chest with his fists, beating against his chest to punctuate each thing he remembers. “I hurt you more than anyone has ever hurt you. I left you behind. I was going to leave you forever, I was going to—” Gon gasps and shakes his head. This momentary loss of focus enables Killua to catch one of Gon’s assaulting hands. Gon, unable to wriggle out of Killua’s grasp, simply bursts into tears.

“And you weren’t going to tell me? You wanted to carry this on your own? Why? Why, Killua?”

The sobs are loud under the clear night sky.

Killua’s arms are immediately around him. His lips brush against Gon’s forehead in an almost-kiss that Gon considers accidental.

“I understand,” Killua says finally. “I understand now why Mito called me. And, yeah. I owe you an apology, Gon. I shouldn’t have brushed this under the—”

“Apology?” Gon’s voice is high and shrill, but from the unnatural stillness of Killua’s body, Gon knows he is listening. “It’s me, Killua! Oh gosh, it’s me. _I_ need to apologize. I am so sorry. I don’t even know how to live with myself now, knowing I have caused you such pain. Making you carry me to safety when you were just a kid. Ignoring you. Our friendship. Everything we went through together.” Gon stops to catch his breath as the self-accusations erupt with such force that his lungs just can’t provide enough air. Oddly enough, confessing his guilt to Killua is much easier when Killua is holding him, when Killua’s piercing gaze does not cut through him. As Gon holds onto him, he is overwhelmed by Killua’s proximity once more. He lifts his head to look at Killua’s face and his lungs once again have a hard time doing their job, now for an entirely different reason.

Killua looks at him so gently. As if Gon was the most precious thing in this world, as if Gon’s stupid pain and his snotty outbursts were touching to Killua. _As if Killua—_

Then Killua schools his expression and sighs.

“Honestly, Gon,” he starts, but stops, not knowing how to say whatever he wants to say, and Gon finds some comfort in that. At least he is not the only person who lost his composure. “I… I wanted you to say those things for so long. When I was with Alluka, I had time to process the Chimera Ant hunt and everything that happened, and yes, I wanted you to say you were sorry. But you couldn’t. Not when you didn’t even know.” Gon breathes in to start his second stream of apology, but Killua gives him a stern look so Gon doesn’t interrupt him. “I’m glad you remember. I know it’s weird, but I’m glad, because now you know. And I’m sorry for keeping it from you. I couldn’t really talk about it. I didn’t know how. Honestly, I still don’t.” Killua lets out an exasperated sigh.

“I went to NGL,” Gon says. Killua’s eyes – beautiful, breath-taking, blue eyes – widen.

“When?”

“Like a month ago. I had to come home. It’s where I started to remember.”

“Mhm.”

Albeit reluctantly, Gon wriggles free of Killua’s arms so he can stand taller and look Killua in the eyes. They are altogether too close by now.

“I’m sorry Killua. I was cruel to you, more cruel than anyone else. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault. I mean it. Besides, did you just forget about my family? You’d have to try much much harder to be number one in the cruelty department.” Killua smirks at him, but it’s still so loving in some way; his words are a joke but somehow it sounds like an absolution. Despite the fact than Gon has always, always laughed at Killua’s jokes, now all he can offer is a weak smile. “I’m sorry too. For not talking about it.”

Gon swallows.

“Maybe we can talk more about it later?” he asks. The rapport they have right now feels fragile; Gon is not sure he is ready to unpack even more of their complicated history. Yet it feels important to do more. One conversation just isn’t enough.

Killua nods. He, too, seems at loss for words, but he nods more than once.

While the conversation and his own apology left Killua vulnerable, even this vulnerability is different and new. He doesn’t have the tremble of an abused child; this is a mature kind of vulnerability. There’s strength in his vulnerability. There is openness and genuine communication and something else. _As if Killua—_

“There is something else I wanna tell you,” Gon blurts out. He is done with the secrets. He sucks at keeping things to himself anyway. Might as well just rip everything off like a plaster. True to his own core self, Gon is inclined to strike while the iron is hot.

“Yesterday I realized- but not just yesterday, I thought a lot about this-“ Gon falters. Striking this proverbial iron is actually harder than he thought. How is he supposed to wrestle with something so big like a confession to Killua when his face is still blotchy from terrified tears? How is he to offer his love for Killua when he should atone for what he has done first?

 _It wasn’t your fault,_ Killua said. Did he mean it?

Killua rubs Gon’s upper arm. His touch is firm but soft, and he looks at Gon with genuine concern and with a fondness that could perhaps mean that Killua—

“Hey. Sounds like a tough topic. You don’t have to do this now.”

_When did Killua become so good at comforting others?_

“I want to,” Gon insists.

“Well then, I’m all ears,” Killua shrugs dramatically. His hand lingers on between them, not quite back to his sides after rubbing Gon’s arm, and Gon grabs it, sudden even to himself. Killua’s hand has grown; his fingers are still on the long and thin side, but somehow they can disappear in Gon’s large, physically trained hands like in the old times. Killua’s eyes flicker at the connection.

“You’re so kind,” Gon whispers, almost reverently. “You came all this way, just because my aunt called you. You… you forgave me.”

“There was nothing to forgive, Gon,” Killua interrupts. “We were kids.”

_It wasn’t your fault._

“You’re always so smart, Killua,” Gon smiles softly, and his thumb begins to draw circles on Killua’s hand; his brain is torn between how Killua’s hand feels in his and analyzing the way Killua sucks in his lower lip for a second. “You are so many things. You are so smart and so kind. I just… I just think you’re beautiful.”

The last bit comes out in a blurt. Killua’s cheeks grow pink. So does his nose and even his throat. His blush is stunning to Gon’s eyes.

“Yesterday I was crying and then something good happened. I could open my aura nodes. For a bit,” Gon adds hesitantly when Killua’s face brightens; Gon doesn’t want to give him false hope. But he can feel the unique warmth radiating from Killua’s eyes, and he knows that this is not about their special moment or anything of the sort; Killua is using _gyo._

“I see it,” he marvels. “Your aura. It’s more defined now, not like the basic aura of ordinary humans. Wow! You could train again!”

“Yeah!” Gon allows himself to grin a little. Killua’s excitement is contagious. The next words come out easier. “And, you know, I was thinking about you everyday when you were gone. It was bearable when you were gone with Alluka, but this recent departure for this Hunter journey, I just missed you so much.”

“It was something we should’ve done together,” Killua agrees. His expression is almost unbearably kind. Gon has to look down for a second to be able to continue; that’s how overwhelming Killua is.

“I’d like to train with you, Killua. And when I’m less weak, I’d like to travel with you. If you want, that is. If you still want.” _If you still want me._

“Of course I want that!” Killua grins at him. This is the happiest he looked ever since this second reunion. “This is great news, Gon! I’m so happy for you. I’m so happy about this.”

And Killua’s face is so beautiful, so mesmerizing in this happiness. It’s so unlike the cool, nonchalant Killua that Gon remembers. This new Killua is so much more in sync with who he is and what he feels. Gon’s enthusiasm grows in response, and as the proverbial iron grows even hotter, he ventures further.

“You know, Killua,” he says, preparing the final blow as if it were Jajanken, “I think I want more than just the travels.”

“Hm?” Killua is paying attention to him again, back to the present from whatever happy future he has been imagining. His eyes are so attentive, so intense that it hurts Gon – in a good way. He feels timid. He feels clumsy. He feels like a burden who needs to be trained again, who holds back the indescribable talent and sheer power that Killua is. Gon hurries to go past the point of no return, to tear off the plaster, before he could chicken out.

“I think I’m in love with you, Killua. I think I’d like to stay with you forever. If you want.”

There, he said it. In his nervousness to see his response, Gon is fixated on Killua’s face. Surprisingly, Killua’s eyes darken. There’s a shadow cast across his cheeks, there is something unreadable about the way he parts his lips. It’s unexpected.

“If only you knew,” Killua says in a husky voice, one that sounds almost dangerous, as if he was holding back something huge and terrifying, “how long I’ve been hoping to hear these words, Gon.”

“H-how long?” Gon responds, meek from Killua’s strange reaction. “I’ve only recently put it together.”

“Jeez, you silly,” Killua barks a laughter again, but his face remains unusual. Gon offers his embarrassed laugh.

“I’m stupid, aren’t I? When it comes to feelings. Complex feeling, I mean. I can always tell when I’m happy or angry! So stupid, hehe.”

“No,” Killua says and he is leaning closer to Gon. Yes, Gon decides, Killua’s face is odd and new, and Gon doesn’t know what it means. Killua’s eyes really are darker somehow, but they glint beautifully, his lashes cast shadows on his delicate cheekbones, and Gon can hear Killua’s breathing, uneven and heavy. Regardless, there is nothing scary about the situation. It’s… exciting. It’s tantalizing.

“You’re not stupid. You’re not stupid at all, Gon,” Killua whispers. Gon feels the air from Killua’s mouth on his lips. The hair stands on his arms. “You’re just very, very silly.”

The way Killua says that is so loving, so tender that Gon has to blush. He sees that Killua notices the color in his cheeks, and, as if he was encouraged by this, Killua leans even closer. Gon is spellbound by his glinting eyes, those impossibly long eyelashes, _his smell._

“I’d like to—” Killua starts in a low voice.

“Can I?” Gon asks at the exact same time.

And in this awkward consent-seeking, it becomes clear that they want the same thing. Gon has no idea who leaned in first; he just knows that they are kissing and it’s marvelous. He expected a shy kiss from Killua, but this new and mature Killua kisses him with such fervor as if he has been waiting for a lifetime, and Gon suddenly understands the strange shadows on Killua’s face. Killua has been holding back. He’s been waiting for Gon, he’s been keeping a lid on a love so magnificent and powerful that, once free, cannot be dammed again. And Killua’s face is hot against Gon’s now, so Gon just has to reach out to touch his cheek and his jaw, and Killua sighs a big, content sigh, his lashes flutter half-closed, and he whispers Gon’s name, slowly and over and over again.

“I love you,” Gon responds. “I love you Killua. Please let me stay with you and I will love you forever. I promise.”

“Gon,” Killua breathes again. “Gon.”

“I’m here, Killua. I’ll always be here for you if you want.”

Gon knows he is babbling but he feels an abrupt desperation to convince Killua that he, too, has matured; he too is a new Gon. He’d go on, but Killua kisses him again. Now he’s gentle; so very gentle, and Gon feels that he is healing under Killua’s soft touch, his heart knitting itself back together.

“I want you,” Killua responds to Gon’s unspoken question finally. “I’ve loved you for so long, Gon. I’ve wanted to travel with you. I’ve wanted all these things since I know you.”

Nose to nose, forehead to forehead. Gon’s hands now hold Killua’s face, and Killua’s eyes are still half-closed as if he needed to limit the visual stimuli so he could focus on the sensation of Gon’s proximity alone. Gon just stares at him, awe-struck by the fact that he is holding Killua Zoldyck, this perfect, beautiful creature. It’s almost unfair how Killua’s hair is messed up and yet still shines in the moonlight, making him look too beautiful for words. It’s almost unfair how Gon is yearning for even more, wanting to ruffle those silky strands, wanting to love Killua with affectionate touches and whispers of sweet nothings.

“Can I be your boyfriend, then?” It seems like a silly question, but somehow it is so important to know what Killua wants. So there’s no place for anything like what happened before. More questions, less assumptions. Gon is determined to do this right. “I promise I will date you and love you and—”

Killua presses his lips against Gon’s for a second; enough to stun him.

“Yes. I’d really like that, Gon.”

Finally, Gon laughs with so much volume and so much energy as if Killua recharged his worn-out batteries. And he kisses Killua – more clumsily than Killua did, because Gon is buoyant with excitement. His teeth bump into Killua’s and their noses brush, but this is Gon’s kiss to Killua; a raw, energetic, Gon-like kiss, and Killua smirks when they pull apart, looking utterly satisfied.

“I love you,” Gon repeats, beaming. This time the confession is less serious, less overwhelming; this time it is a joyful declaration that runs out of his mouth without doubts and reservations. “I love you, Killua. I love you. Can we please tell Aunt Mito about this?”

And he laughs and laughs when Killua turns dark pink at the thought.

**Author's Note:**

> leave a comment if you'd die for killua


End file.
